KH FM: 109 point 5
by oxfinalheartsxo
Summary: Okay. The talkshow buisness wasn't for me. Actually, that's what my boss said when he fired me. So I read the newspaper and find a help wanted ad for a radio show...hmmm. Sequel to the Talk Show
1. The Newspaper

oxFHxo: Hope you like it!

dis: Kingdom Hearts Characters are kingdom heart's blah blah blah i promise not to steal that stuff.

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So maybe the old business wasn't for me. Actually, my boss told me that when he fired me. I didn't enjoy being attacked by guardian monsters, having my security replaced by animals – which left at the sign of no job, having to fake smile, and having to pay for all the damage Ansem caused anyway. It was a warm spring day. Actually, I'm lying. It was cold, and it was winter, and it was snowing. I was leaning against the cold brick of a cold apartment building in cold New York City. It was one of those moments where you wish you had a bag to shove over your head. The Kingdom Hearts Talk Show didn't work out to well. Luckily, Ansem was wrapped up and shipped out to the nearest mental hospital. I saw a newspaper floating down the sidewalk. That would have to do. I picked it up, bent it around a little and shoved it over my head. Everybody who saw me without a bag on my head, or in this case newspaper, asked '_are you that girl who screwed up on television?' _ And when I _had_ a bag on my head, everyone just walked by me, muttering things about crazy people. I know crazy people. And I wasn't one. I swear. I _swear!_ I knew that when I took off my newspaper, there would be ink all over my face. I might as well just read it this way. Slumping down against the wall of the apartment, I was reading the help wanted ads. New talk show host. I wonder where that job could have opened up, I thought sarcastically. Something poked me in the side.

"Hey lady. Are you dead?" came a little kid's voice.

I ripped the newspaper off my head.

"NO I AM NOT DEAD YOU LITTLE TWERP GO AWAY!" I screamed. He looked petrified, like he was going to cry. Guilt trip. "Oh no, oh no. I'm sorry! Come here, it's ok!"

"You're a crazy lady! Go away!" he turned around and ran.

"Good going." I muttered to myself. I turned back to the crumpled newspaper. Plumber, welder, Keyblade master? What a spoof. One caught my eye. Actually, it poked me in the eye, because the wind blew it there. As I wiped the tearing eye with my sleeve, I prepared to beat the crap out of that ad. But I read it instead.

WANTED: Radio host. Original one left for a Talk Show. Some experience needed. 

There was a number on the bottom. I rushed to the nearest phone booth, hung up the phone on some middle-aged dude and dialed the number. I had to close the door. The guy I pushed of the phone was banging on it though. No one picked up, but I left a message. In my "professional" host voice of course. This job would be a cinch.

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oxFHxo: Review please! 


	2. Interview

"Miss, erm, Hearts? The interview has started."

I was sitting in a pleather chair in a tastelessly designed room. Some New York accented snot was blabbing away on her cell phone. Man I wanted a cell phone…I stood up and followed the receptionist into a weird looking room. I think in the recording studio down the hall someone was playing oldies soft rock. This should be interesting. I sat down in yet another pleather chair. Or maybe it **was** leather. I leaned down. Hmm. It smelt like it..

" Miss Hearts, if you don't mind my asking, what are you doing?" Said a man in a tux across the desk from me.

"Um, smelling..ah never mind. Nice chairs. Real leather?"

He looked skeptical.

"Only the finest." He made a 'rich-snob' sniff, "I am Mr. Islands, head of the radio station here in New York. We received your message and resume." Mr. Islands pushed his bifocals up on the bridge of his nose and paged through my resume. I don't see why though, I am obliviously the only one for this job! "It says here you used to run a talk show?"

"Uh yeah, Kingdom Hearts Talk Show"

"Hmm…wasn't that the one that went out of business for some reason?"

"Major electrical problems." I was lying through my cheesy smile. Sora taught me that smile.

"Ah. Anyway, seems like you have a lot of experience, and are perfect for the job."

I laughed, " Well _of course_ I am the perfect one for the job."

Mr. Islands wasn't amused. He sniffed.

"You start tomorrow. Be here at eight a.m. sharp? Hear that?"

"Yes sir!" I stood up and shook hands. I held my excitement in until I was out of the office. " YEAH!" I screamed, and zigzagged out of the cubicles. Tomorrow will be a cinch.


	3. First Day

_Beep!Beep!Beep!_

"NO! MY HEALTH IS **NOT** LOW I JUST HEALED!" I was tossing and turning in my bed. Another tumble with Ansem dream…those are the worst. I shot up out of bed and looked at the clock. 7:45. "CRAP!" I shot out of bed and grabbed a random pair of pants out of my closet and a shirt off of my floor. This would have to do. I brushed my hair and tied it up into a nice bun/pony tail thing. I grabbed my Naruto messenger bag and tripped down the stairs. I was tempted to stop at the local Starbucks…but ever since the talk show, I lost my appetite for coffee… "Taxi!" I screamed. I hopped in the yellow vehicle and told the driver to floor it. I basically jumped out of the Taxi while it was still at full speed and crashed right into some old lady. "Sorry!" I yelled as I sprinted down the sidewalk. It must have been some sight. This lady in a "I Riku" t-shirt from last years anime convention busting through the delicately carved glass doors of one of the most respected radio stations in the state. "Hehe, hey everyone. Where the studio?"

A punky looking teenager ushered me through the cubicles to a carpeted door. "Thanks." I said, but when I though she was out of earshot I said, "Punk." She heard. "I said funk. That's what I'm gunna play. Funk." Ha. Yeah right. Punk.

I opened the door and walked in. A fully equipped studio awaited me. I smiled, and sat down in the spinny computer chair. This was going to be fun. _I have no idea whatsoever what to do!_ I thought. There were probably a little over 75 buttons all over the dj counter. I pressed one. Some weird music blasted through the speakers that were on each side of the room. _Really_ weird music at that. I quickly turned it off. Staring around at everything, I noticed a pair of headphones. Those would probably be what _I _wear during recording. What else was there? A telephone, a lot of CD's, and a laptop. Some bleach hair guy slipped in the door.

"You're on air in 5, 4 ," then he mouthed the last three numbers. I watched the little "ON AIR" sign blink up.

"Heyy here we are recording _live_ in New York. For all you KH fans out there I salute ya. I'm your host Rena Hearts, playing what _you_ request, so call in anytime, and here we go starting off with one of my favorites, Simple & Clean." I opened iListen on the laptop and played the song. That should give me at least a four minute breather. Did I really go that smooth? SWEET! Something started blinking. "Omigosh what is that!" I screamed.

Bleachy poked his head in again.

"It's called a telephone, you know it goes ring ring when someone wants to talk to you?"

"Haha very funny." But he was right. It was the phone. The song ended. "Well looks like we have a caller folks, lets see what they have to say." I pressed the blinking "caller" button under the phone. "Hello?"

"Hi yeah Rena my names Ariel."

"Hello Ariel what can I do for you?"

"Well, see there's this really sweet guy I like, but he likes another girl, is there someway I can get Sora, I mean, _this guy_ to like me?"

"Well I don't know toots your outta luck, bye!" I didn't want to interfere with love. I mean, of course I did. Just not underwater and..yeah. "Well everyone let's let music take over. Remember, you're listening to KH FM, the best Kingdom Hearts music and help line from 8 a.m. to whenever. Tune in! Also, have questions? Send me an e-mail, I will try to help ya with your problems. Till next time!" I created a playlist and left the studio with music and commercials playing on the station.


	4. Maybe the whole career thing doesnt work

So here you are! Chapters! Let's see how many…wait…lemme; count…one, two, six, eleven.

Riku: Four, Rena, four.

Anyway, I think I've been getting a lot done on this. Actually, all of them. . Hooray! I've been on the computer a lot.

Riku: Yeah, I noticed the butt mold on the chair.

It makes it comfy when I sit down! Hmph.

Whatever. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Kingdom Hearts characters aren't mine, either are the logo or songs. So relax! I would never steal that wonderful production. Eagles lyrics are owned by themm.

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I was a few weeks into the job. It was actually pretty fun! I knew everyone now. Except that punky kid. Hated her. I walked into the studio, sat down, and put my feet up. I knew this by heart now.

"On air in, five, four," then the routine mouthed numbers. I found out that guys name was Mike, but I call him Mr. Bleach. He was kind of my secretary/studio director, so he got my drinks and stuff like that. Ever since that coffee incident – I still shudder thinking about it – I started drinking Gatorade. Good stuff!

"Hello out there my lovely listeners, you're listening to KH FM, your one and only source of Kingdom Hearts music and info. Today I have a helluva lotta mail, so let's hear a song, then I start reading! Put your hands together for the original Passion by Utada Hikaru."

The drumbeat started, and I called in Mike.

"MR. BLEACH! GET IN HERE!"

The door cracked open and he wandered in.

"What." He stated blankly.

"I have a lot of mail today so if there are ANY letters insulting me, I'm gunna let the listeners know they will promptly be shoved into the water tank, and _you_ are the lucky devil who gets to!" He looked at me as if I was a crazy woman. I got that look an awful lot. "Grab me a Gatorade while your at it kay?"

He shifted out of the room, and in a few minutes had my Gatorade. Cherryice. I hated that flavor, and he knew it, or maybe that was the secretary who knew it. Who cares. I was in the mood to renew my softball-pitching arm. So I threw it at him.

"WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!" he yelled, rubbing his head.

"I hate cherryice Gatorade. Duh. Get me another." I turned around and edited the day's play list calmly, hiding my devilish smirk.

"But –" Mr. Bleach started

"That's all." I shoed him away with my hand, and he shuffled through the soundproofed door, scowling the way.

I glared at the stacks of envelopes. I picked up the one nearest to me and tore it open. Pulling on my headphones I started reading the letter inside.

"Dear Rena,

I am having this problem with Kingdom Hearts. I just can't seem to beat Sepheroth! He's so hard to get past. It annoys me! Any tips?

Sora."

"Well Sora, I hate to tell you this, but you'll probably never be able to beat him. I don't see why you'd want to anyway. He's a pansy that goes around killing people with his invisible chorus singing "seph-ir-oth!" I heard some screams from outside. "It's not worth it. After you killed him, what would you say?" _Somebody's having a temper tantrum, _I thought when I heard tables being overthrown.'Oh, I totally beat this dude with long hair and a theme song. Adurhur.' I don't think so." Wait…tables being overturned…people screaming.

NOT THIS AGAIN.

"WellIamgunnahavetotakeabreak,butstaytunedforsomemoremusicthatyoulove!"

I can talk fast if I need to.

I don't like to need to.

I heard it now.

Not the clomping footsteps to my door.

Not the reaalllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllly angry growl.

No.

None of that.

The last thing I remember, I was running for the door. Trying to find the passage back to the place I was before.

No, not that.

Those are Eagles lyrics.

Good song though.

It does describe what happened.

I was running to the door to lock it when I tripped over a coffee mug holder.

Coffee.

I hate it.

My forehead it the side of the dj table and everything toppled on me.

Then I heard it.

The dreaded music.

The last thing I heard before I passed out.

An ugly chorus chanting

"_Seph-ir-oth!_"


	5. Hoppital

I don't know if I have ever mentioned that I suffer from OCD. I know that's kind of irrelevant right now, but you'll see. There was a monotone beeping going on in my head. I was counting the beeps. One. Two. Three….Three-hundred twenty, three-hundred twenty-two.. A voice broke my concentration.

"Miss Hearts? I think she's coming to.." I opened my eyes to see a petite blond haired nurse and Mr. Bleach. There were disgustingly medicine green walls and I really wished that she didn't wake me up. Even though the beeping continued, now I had to start all over again. I closed my eyes but I could sense that the nurse reached her arm out to try and nudge me awake.

"Don't touch me." I snapped. She jerked her hand away. I kept counting. I heard Mr. Bleach mumble a few things and leave the room. Nurse Blondie was shuffling around the room, probably checking if I was alive or something. I think it's kind of obvious that I **am** alive, you know, seeing as I'm sort of _breathing?_ What can I say? Some people just aren't as smart as me. Some people just don't see my mad genius. It's actually quite a pity. But I'm not losing sleep over it.

"Er, Miss Hearts, we need you to sign some papers so you can be discharged and then-"

"I'm. _counting._" I stated forcefully, making sure my voice was dripping with hate. I don't know why, but I love scaring people with fake mood swings. I shot up from the itchy mattress and stared straight into the brown eyes of Nurse Whatserface. I smiled real big and she seemed to think I was joking. Then I frowned. Smile. Frown. Smile. Big frown. I leaned back again, but kept darting my eyes around every time she made a movement. Ahh, the joys of life. She nervously reached for a clipboard holding a thick stack of papers and shakily started leafing through the pages.

"W-well," she stuttered, "if you just sign here," she gulped, obviously shaken, "we can have you out of here within a few m-minutes." She tossed the clipboard near my feet and backed slowly out of my room, almost as if I were a bear ready to attack or something.

I was picking carelessly through the sheets of paper, not really reading them, but just scribbling a few loops and crossing and dotting a few random squiglies every time I saw an "initial here" or "sign here". The door opened and I glanced up. Some guy in a white coat. Stupid doctors. I remember one time I broke my leg when a snowboarder crashed and ran over me. My parents thought it was a big deal or something, so they forced me to go to the hospital. Sure, it hurt like the dickens-whatever that is-but why couldn't I just take care of it at home? I wasn't causing any trouble, and all the doctors do is just poke and prod me saying, "does this hurt?" I mean **come on**. If it didn't hurt, wouldn't I be here saying, "my leg's broken."

Anyway, he strolled across the room and stopped about six inches away from my bed. I glared for a moment, and then went back to my scribbles.

"Hem-hem." I paused, annoyed, then kept on writing. "**Hem-**_**hem**_." I heard again. Finally, I looked at him and plainly stated,

"I don't think that you should be working in this hospital with what sounds to me like a nasty wet cough. Maybe you should go home, unless, of course, you were performing a feeble attempt to get my attention." He looked stupefied. I grinned and turned back to all my papers. I was just bruised up a little, well, I think I had a concussion or something, and my nose felt like it had been bleeding. There was a weird tune buzzing in my head, it sounded kind of familiar. And all my fingers on my left hand were bandaged. And I had a killer headache. I also knew that I suffered from OCD, and mild ADD. Okay, maybe not _that_ mild. But what could this doctor tell me that would surprise me other than that?

"You need medication." He stated. That wasn't surprising at all.

"Sorry, I'm already taking a bunch." I plainly replied, not worried at all.

"Well you need more. This kind of medication isn't the normal kind though. Not pills or capsules, it's not really medicinal. And it might cure…**all** of your problems." I perked up a little. Boy would it be a relief to not have to take 5 pills everyday…what could it be?

"So? Then what is it?" I pretended not to sound interested, but on the inside I was burning. I heard a clock ticking and started counting. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. I found the source of the beeping too, my heart monitor, or whatever they're called. You know, the ones that blip every time your heart beats? And when it doesn't it goes beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep? I started counting them too. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven.

"It…may bring back a few bad memories."

"I don't care." What could be that bad?

"Well it's not exactly prove-"

"**I said I don't care dammit!**" He furrowed his brow and looked at me nervously.

"The best cure for all your…" he hesitated, obviously finding the kindest word he could to describe me, "_malfunctions_,"

Nice one, I thought.

"is caffeine." I looked up at him.

"You mean like, tea, right?" Please please please be tea.

"Er, well, we found that tea isn't strong enough." His voice faltered, "The team of doctors and I all agreed that the only drug strong enough, yet mild enough to seal your actions at a safe degree," oh god, I thought.

"is coffee." After those words, all I heard was,

beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.

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MUHAHAHAHAH. I'm going crazy. REVIEW IT al;dfja;ldfj.


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